Resisting Danger
by Angel LeeAnn
Summary: Marguerite had known her fate would haunt her, but just how far will her powers take her?
1. Come Away With Me

Title:  Resisting Danger

Author:  Angel LeeAnn

Rating: PG-13

Summary:  Marguerite had known her fate would come crashing down upon her, but how will it affect Roxton and their children?

Disclaimer:  This is based off the creation of the brilliant Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the _Over the Hill Gang_.

NOTES:  This is the third installment of a story, but you **don't** have to read the other two parts (_Trusting Danger_ and _Unexpected Danger_) to understand this.

Chapter One

Come Away With Me

She was tired.  Not the kind of tired in which a few hour nap, or even a long restful night, would care.  It wasn't even really sleepiness or exhaustion.  It was just a sense of being utterly drained and indifferent to everything around her.  She was passive, subdued, and just plain tired.

Roxton noticed; the whole tree house noticed.  Her dispassion didn't even escape the curious eyes of the children.  Lillian Veronica and William George Malone were perceptive of their mother's mood – or lack thereof.  They watched Marguerite drift further and further into herself, but at the tender age of one they didn't understand.  Yet, their father did.  Roxton recognized the symptoms.  His wife was depressed.  The next step was figuring out 'why?'

Marguerite wandered silently into the airy kitchen, her face hollow and blank; her eyes dim and sunken.  She wordlessly prepared the babies' bottles, sighing as she screwed on the lids.

Roxton looked on, worried as hell.  He was perched on a stool at the table cleaning the weaponry.  However, the chore suddenly seemed less important than it had just moments ago.

"Marguerite," he finally ventured.  "Is everything all right?  The last few days you've seemed kind of…down."

She shrugged, humming an offhand "mmm."  She tested the milk on her wrist, satisfied that it wasn't too hot.  "I don't know what you mean.  I've just been a little tired.  Having one-year-old twins can do that, you know."

"Is that what this is?  The babies are wearing you out?"  Roxton rose from his seat, abandoning the rifles in exchange for his wife.  "Why didn't you say so?"  He gently rubbed her upper arms.  "Maybe we can have the others watch them for a couple days.  And we'll go do whatever you want to, darling."

"No," she exclaimed more frantically than she had meant to.  Shaking her head she mumbled: "No.  I don't want to."

"Marguerite, you need to take care of yourself every once in awhile.  I know that you're trying very hard to be a wonderful mother.  And you are one."  He whirled her around, wrapping his muscular arms around her slender waist.  Nestling his nose into her black hair, he murmured suggestively: "It's ok to take a break and spend some "quality" time with your husband."

Marguerite rolled her eyes and gently shoved him away.  "Forget it, John.  I'm not leaving the twins here while we tipsy off for a weekend of…"

"Luxury?  Peace?"  He leaned down into her space, his mouth lingering over her ear.  "Sex," he whispered.

"John!"  Marguerite glanced around, relieved that no one else was around.  "We can do that here, you know," she hissed.  "We don't have to leave in order to have sex.  If you were getting antsy then you should've just said so.  We'll do it tonight if you want."

Roxton sighed, a debonair grin spreading across his lips.  "It's not about the sex, my love.  I'm just trying to make a point."

"Point taken.  But I'm not going anywhere."  Marguerite slipped off towards the twins' bedroom.

Roxton gave a lighthearted growl and followed.  "Marguerite, the others would guard these children with their lives.  They would be in perfectly safe hands."  He leaned against the doorframe, watching as Marguerite leaned into their daughter's crib, offering the bottle to the silent little girl.  "How about just for one night."

"No," Marguerite insisted, smoothing back Lillian's dark hair.

William began to fuss, seeking attention.  Roxton pushed himself away from the door and strolled towards his son's crib.  "Hey, little lad, what's with the sour face?"  He scooped the baby into his arms, peering down into a matching set of hazel eyes.  "I bet you want fed."  He gestured for Marguerite to hand him the other bottle.  She wordlessly complied.  Roxton tenderly placed the nipple into William's mouth.  "There you go, all better."

Marguerite snatched up Lillian and cradled her to her bosom.  She gingerly traced the back of her finger along the baby's soft cheek.  "See, how could we possibly leave them behind?"

Roxton chuckled, stepping over to his wife.  "We're not "leaving them behind".  We're just…going on a date."

"A date?"

"Yeah.  A man, a woman, food, conversation…you know…a date."

Marguerite stared down at the little child in her arms, contemplating her options.  "I don't know, John.  They'll still so young and…"

"They'll be fine."  Roxton pecked her forehead affectionately.  "Come away with me, darling.  Just for one night."

Marguerite sighed.  "All right.  But only one night."

End Chapter One

AHHH!!!


	2. The Getaway

Some of your names are partially **bolded** and partially not.  That means from now on I'll be abbreviating your name with the **bolded** portion.  Get it?

**LoveMR**:  Oh but of course!

**Kat**183:  Thank you so very much.  I'll post as quickly as I can.

**Keys**3303:  Mmm…should I keep the paramedics handy?

**Panda**gal:  I know: how could I have stayed away so long?  Thanks for the review!

**Zeus**fluff:  Actually, I've been feeling under the weather the last couple days and your review – like everyone else's – did make me feel a bit better.  Thanks!

**Spirita**:  Lol.  My fingers are typing as fast as they can!

The**ChosenOne**3:  Aww, that was very sweet of you.  That really makes me want to get chapter two written.

**E1**stwin:  Thank you so much for the support/review.  I hope I can keep up to your standards.

**Clux**:  Thank you a million.  And I'm enjoying your story, , as well.

**Taya**7:  Lol.  Thanks for the enthusiasm and, of course, for the review!

**Aragorn**-X:  Thanks for the review.  And the delay is ok.  I sometimes take longer than expected, too.

**Danny**:  I appreciate the review.  I'm trying to write as fast as I can.

**Beckers**:  an evil gleam in my eyes Mischief…I love mischief.  

Chapter Two

The Getaway

Part One

Marguerite swatted at the swarm of mosquitoes she trekked through as she trudged behind Roxton.  She shifted the weight of the picnic basket, glowering at her husband's back.  Granted, he had offered to carry it, but even she knew that he couldn't fire his rifle while lugging the large basket around.  And if they found trouble, then she'd much rather have him pointing the barrel of the gun at their attackers instead of swinging a basket full of food at them.

Before the babies, Marguerite would have sarcastically whined and complained endlessly.  However, since having the twins, Marguerite had become more hesitant about her snide remarks.  Yet, at times, she couldn't restrain the urge to revert back to her snobbish ways.  Like now.

"John," she moaned.  "Do you want my arms to fall off?"

"Of course not, darling.  We'd loose the food."

Marguerite rolled her eyes and Roxton – not even looking at her – chuckled.  "Now, now, Marguerite, you know that I don't like to waste good food."

"No, but you'd gladly sacrifice your wife's arms to the cause."

Roxton barked a laugh.  "Come, my love, you know that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the better of the group."

Marguerite huffed an exasperated sigh.  "You're just so full of it today, aren't you?  I thought that this getaway was supposed to help me relax and have an enjoyable time.  And, so far, this journey across this wretched plateau has been _marvelous_, but I really must insist that from now on you _don't_ try and show me a good time because…"

"Damn, woman, you can just go on and on, can't you?"  Roxton ducked under a low branch and then turned to face his irritate wife.  "Darling, I promise you, that as soon as we get to the spot, you'll be treated like a queen."

"It's about time," she mumbled.

"But," Roxton held up the rifle towards her.  "Until then, you need to shut the bloody hell up and carry that damn basket."  He said it all in good cheer, smiling at her with his usual air of charm.  He leaned over the branch that stood between them and pecked her on the nose.  "Now let's go, darling.  We're almost there."

Marguerite groaned and followed his lead.

Part Two

Back at the tree house, the twins were fussy.  Malone, Lillian cradled in one arm and William in the other, stared at Veronica helplessly.  "Please hurry, Veronica," he pleaded, lightly bouncing the babies.

Veronica, who was busy preparing their bottles, giggled softly at the sight of Malone's desperation, his arms full with the two squalling children.  He would make a wonderful father someday.  "It's obvious who their mother is," she joked, screwing the lids on.

"Actually, they're usually pretty well behaved – taking after Roxton."  Malone handed Lillian over and then accepted one of the bottles.  He sighed in relief when William latched onto the nipple, his wails instantly ceasing.  Malone glanced up at Veronica triumphantly.  "Finally," he whispered.

Lillian, her mouth sucking at the bottle, gazed up at Veronica with amber-green eyes.  The baby always seemed to be looking straight into you instead of just at you.  It was unsettling at times, but normally Veronica found it soothing.  "You are such a sweet baby," Veronica said tenderly.  Oh how she wished she would have a baby someday.

Simultaneously, the twins snapped their heads away from their bottles and stared at each other.  Then Lillian kicked her feet, her tiny hands balled up into tight fists.  She peered back up at Veronica, growing more forceful.  The jungle girl fought to keep from dropping the hyper baby.  "Hey now, sweetheart.  What is it?  Do you want to play?"

Lillian giggled, slapping her palms together.  Veronica couldn't help but laugh.  "You're so adorable."

William, nestled in the crook of Malone's arms, began to giggle, too.  Malone chuckled.  "I guess feeding time's over."

Veronica and Malone took the babies back into their nursery, placing the children on the floor.  Playtime was so much fun…for Veronica and Malone.

Part Three

Marguerite let the picnic basket drop.  She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.  "Finally," she said.

Roxton came up behind her, encircling her in his arms.  He nestled her hair, his lips grazing her ear.  "Told you the walk would be worth it."

They were behind a waterfall, the water creating a curtain of privacy.  Inside the cave, a tree had managed to grow, coming out of the rock and bending gently.  It was cool in the cave, the raging heat of the jungle unable to penetrate through the rock and waterfall.

"How did you find this place," Marguerite asked, leaning back against Roxton's brood chest.

"While scouting a few weeks back."  He turned her around, pressing her body against his.  "So, it suits you, your highness?"

"Mmm," she breathed against his neck.  "It's not Paris, but it'll do, my noble servant."

He kissed her passionately, caressing his hands over body.  "God, it's been so long, Marguerite."

"I know.  I'm sorry."  She nibbled at his throat.  "I don't know what's been wrong with me, but I'm so glad we're here now."

He scooped her up and laid her gently on the blankets.

--

Marguerite bolted up causing Roxton's arm to slide off her stomach and into her lap.  She glanced around, frantic.  What was that noise?  Had she dreamt it?  She heard the faint sound of muffled voices again.  Frightened, she nudged Roxton.  "John…John…wake up.  I think someone's coming."

Roxton was immediately on his feet, grabbing his rifle.  He paused, listening intently.  "I don't hear anything," he whispered.

"I do," she said.  She crawled to her feet, coming to stand beside Roxton.  "Don't you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"The voices."

Roxton strained his ears, but heard nothing.  "No.  Are you sure that you do?  Maybe the waterfall is just…"

"No."  Marguerite crept off to the side, towards the path that led them up into the cave.

"Marguerite," Roxton hissed.  He rushed towards her.  "Let me go first."  He climbed down the side of the cave, peering into the darkness.  He inched further, but Marguerite – who had followed him down – grasped his shoulder.

"No," she whispered.  "Don't go that way."

He looked back at her strangely.  "Why?"

"You'll die."

"What?"

Marguerite shook her head.  "I don't…I don't know how I know it, but I swear it's true.  We need to get our stuff and leave.  Now.  Before they come."

"Before who comes?"

Marguerite ignored him, already scrambling up the side of the cave to retrieve their things.

End Chapter Two

THANKS FOR READING!


	3. Who You Are

**IMPORTANT A/N**:  In case you didn't read the two prequels, _Trusting Danger_ and _Unexpected Danger_, then let me explain a little something.  Marguerite had met a sorcerer – Klorichieneremic the Mystical Sorcerer of Malia – who haunted her, tormenting her with visions and nightmares.  At the end of _T.D._, Klor– the sorcerer – convinced Marguerite to leap off a cliff.  Roxton jumped in after her and saved her.  Veronica showed up and Klor suddenly grew very frightened and vanished.  

In _U.D._, Marguerite learns she is pregnant.  After giving birth, Klor returns and kidnaps Lillian.  The explorers go to Malia to rescue Lillian.  We find that Marguerite and Veronica have the same mother, but different fathers.  Also, Marguerite is a sorceress and Veronica a witch.  This is why Klor needs Lillian.  Only someone from their mother's bloodline can undo the spell that cast Klor's people to Malia.  His plan was to raise Lillian as his own, teaching her how to use her magic in order to free him from his curse.  At the end of the story, Klor has the explorers ready for their execution when Marguerite's power intervenes.  Yet, she has no control over it.  Veronica kills Klor and they all escape.

**KDC** & **Panda** & **Clux**:  Heeheehee…the suspense and mind torment begin.  Lol.  I can't help but have my stories be full of mystery.

**ChosenOne**:  What?  There's no reason to be jealous of my crap.  You write marvelous stories.  I enjoy every single one.

**Kat**:  I'm letting the readers decide what it meant.  Yet, trust me, their powers will be expanding.

**Taya**:  Thank you so much.  I really appreciate it.

**Fab**:  Why thank you very much.  I guess you didn't need to waste your time with the summary.  Lol.

**Zeus**:  Always a pleasure to hear from you.

**Keys**:  I hope the summary up top helped you out.  I figured the background would come in handy.  Anyway, thanks for the review!

Chapter Three

What You Are

Part One

"Marguerite," Roxton exclaimed.  "Slow down."  He hurried after her quickly retreating form, her arms full of their belongings.  "Here, darling, let me carry some of that."  Roxton reached for the picnic basket, but she tugged it away from his grasp.  "And this from the woman who complained about carrying it on the way," he teased.

Marguerite flashed her passionate green eyes at him, never breaking her rapid strides.  "You can't fire your rifle while holding the basket," she retorted sternly.

"Marguerite, no one is after us."  Roxton grabbed her arm and gently swung her around to face him.  "Will you please talk to me," he pleaded.

"Damn it, Roxton, will you just trust me?"

"Well, I know you're serious when you start calling me 'Roxton'," he said lightly.  Then he sighed, peering into her earnest face.  "All right.  If it'll make you feel better, but I want to know about what happened at the waterfall.  You said someone was going to kill me.  And that they'd be after us."

Marguerite huffed, harshly blowing air from her nose.  Caving in, she answered briskly:  "I don't know, ok.  I just had a…a…gut instinct.  Or…or _something_.  I can't explain it.  I don't know what it was, but it was real.  I can assure you of that."

"Well, who was after us?"

"I don't know."

"Who was going to kill me?"

"I don't know.  I don't even know if it was someone or a some_thing_ that was going to kill you.  I just knew that you would die."

Roxton titled his head, eyeing her perplexingly.  "Marguerite, you have to admit that this sounds a little bizarre."

"Don't you think I know that, John," Marguerite snapped, her fear of her own power causing her to lash out.  "I don't understand it, but it's real."

"It's ok, love," Roxton soothed, wrapping his arms around her.  "Calm down.  We'll figure it out.  Do you suppose that this could have something to do with you being a sorceress?"

Marguerite vehemently shook her head.  "No.  We don't even know if I truly am one."

"Denial won't make it go away, Marguerite.  We know for a fact that you have some sort of gift.  It's how you saved us at our execution."  Roxton pulled back slightly to gaze into her delicate, but stubborn face.  "Darling, it's all right to call it what it is: magic."

"It's not magic!"  Marguerite yanked away from him and stormed off, shouting over her shoulder:  "And I don't ever want to discuss this again!"

Part Two

In the nursery, Malone bounced William on his knee, keeping an eye on Lillian as she crawled around the freshly cleaned rug.  Challenger poked his head in, beaming at the two smaller additions of their tree house family.  "You handle them exceptionally well, Malone," Challenger commented.

Malone grunted, giving Professor George Challenger a pointed look.  "But it wouldn't hurt for their grandpa to watch them for awhile now would it?"

"Ah, you know I would love to, but I'm rather busy with this new invention of mine."  Challenger looked genuinely disappointed.  He loved the twins just as if they were his own flesh-and-blood grandchildren.  Yet, sometimes work had to come first.  "But I'll take over as soon as I finish a round of tests."  Challenger disappeared from the room, leaving Malone alone with the babies.

"Well, guys, it looks like it's just you and me for the day."  He set William on the floor and then sat Indian-style beside the young children.

Veronica had gone out to work in the garden.  Malone had wanted to help her, but someone had to watch the babies.  And it wasn't that Malone minded spending time with his niece and nephew, but it had been awhile since he was alone with Veronica.  They hadn't had any of their long conversations for while and he was beginning to miss their quiet walks.

Suddenly, Lillian stopped her attempts to chew through the rubber toy Challenger had given her.  She glanced up at Malone, her eyes soft and reflective.  She allowed her elbows to give out, flopping onto her stomach against the floor.  She rolled around, pushing herself up to be in a sitting position.  And then she pointed towards the window, mumbling some baby-gibberish.

"Yeah," Malone smiled, urging her to continue even though he didn't have a clue as to what she was trying to show him.

Lillian turned her attention towards the window, staring up at it.  It took Malone completely surprise when she abruptly burst into tears.  He reached across the floor and scooped her up into his arms.  "Shh, it's ok Lillian."  He kissed the top of her head.

Lillian pointed towards the window again, this time with conviction.

William stared at Lillian, seemingly trying to gauge the reason for his sister's distress.

Malone stood up, curious as to what set her off.  Had she seen a snake?  A month ago, one had slithered into her crib and bit her.  Luckily it hadn't been a poisonous snake, but maybe that experience had taught her to fear them.

Malone peered out of the window.  He glanced down and gasped.  "Veronica," he yelled.

The jungle girl was sprawled across the dirt, unmoving.

Malone snatched up William and raced out of the room.  "Challenger!  Come take the twins!  Something's wrong with Veronica!"

Challenger dashed up the stairs, abandoning his laboratory.  He stole the babies from Malone, frantically inquiring:  "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," Malone exclaimed, rushing into the elevator.

At the bottom, Malone fell into a sprint, racing to Veronica's side.  He knelt beside her, cradling her head in his arms.  "Veronica?  Veronica, can you hear me?"

She murmured, but didn't stir.

Malone examined her, searching for injury.  Instead, he found a dart protruding from the back of her neck.  One of the headhunters must've been there.

Malone scooped her up and carried her back to the tree house.

--

Challenger quietly left Veronica's room, coming to stand by Malone out on the balcony.  "She'll be all right.  She just needs to rest."

Malone turned to his older friend, his expression curious and confused.  "It's weird, Challenger.  It's like Lillian knew there was something wrong."

"That's absurd, Malone.  There's no way she could have, especially from her disadvantaged point on the floor."  Challenger slapped Malone's back in a fatherly gesture.  "I'll watch the twins.  Why don't you rest awhile?"

Malone hesitated and then walked away, convinced that Lillian had somehow known.  

End Chapter Three

Yikes!  And the fun begins!  

Thanks for reading!


	4. Home Sweet Home

**Keys**:  Yes, Veronica is fine, my friend.  No worries there.

**Panda**:  I can't tell you what's going to happen: it'll spoil the story.  Lol.  Yet, I can assure you that Veronica is a-o-k.

**ChosenOne**:  Lol.  Or so you think!

**KDC**:  Yeah, Lillian not being able to speak is going to be a frustrating point through out the story.

**Zeus**:  Sorry it took me awhile.

**Kat**:  Lol.  I just love writing cliffhangers.  Yet, I'm a hypocrite because I hate it when others write cliffhangers.  Lol.

**Taya**:  EEKS!  Can't have you dying on me.  Lol.

**Clux**:  Mystical, of course.  Lol.

Chapter Four

Home Sweet Home

"Oh bloody Hell, Marguerite.  Would you quit your bellyaching?"

"Oh, like you have the right to complain about my complaining!  It _is your_ damn fault, John!"

"I beg your pardon," his voice held defiance and denial.

"Well, I _was_ following you.  You led me straight into it!"

"The hell I did!  I stepped around the damn thing.  Why didn't you?"

"Because I didn't see it.  I was too busy admiring your ass!"

He guffawed in merriment.  "I say: couldn't resist the view?"

Veronica, who'd heard the argument from the nursery, strolled out into the living room with William nestled in her arms.  She took one look at Marguerite's mud soaked clothes and face, and snorted as she tried containing her laughter.  William stirred, his large hazel eyes settling on his mother, but not knowing what too make of the filthy woman.

Roxton dropped his rifle onto the wooden table as he briskly walked toward Veronica.  He held out his arms.  "Hey there, little lad.  You're looking as dashing as ever."  William squirmed against Veronica, happy to see his father.  Roxton plucked the baby out of Veronica's arms, beaming cheerfully at his son.  "Here's the little bugger."  

Marguerite stiffened.  "Well," she stated with her usual brusqueness.  "I'm going to go wash up."  She strode out of the room, her head held high.  Yet, the moment she was out of sight, she chuckled softly to herself.  Tumbling into that mud pit really was quite funny.

--

Marguerite hummed as she lathered the herbal shampoo into her thick, dark curls.  There was nothing like a warm shower in the sultry heat of the Amazonian jungle.  She rinsed off, spending an extra leisurely few minutes before shutting off the makeshift showerhead and wrapping herself up into one of Veronica's mother's robes.

She paused.

_One of **our** mother's robes_, she reminded herself, still unaccustomed to the whole surreal idea.

More than six months ago, Marguerite had learned from a sorcerer, Klor, that Veronica and herself shared the same mother, but different fathers.  More extraordinary was who Marguerite's father was: another sorcerer.  That is, if Klor could be trusted.  The heiress was hesitant to believe it to be true.  It frightened her.  She'd already seen a glimpse of what her own power could do…and she didn't like it, especially since she had no control over it.  It crept up on her, choking her with its ferocity.  Occasionally she could hold it off, feeling it tingling in the back of her mind.

She didn't tell John about the nightmares that plagued her sleep and stole her days.  She could go weeks feeling utterly normal, free of the power that ran through her blood.  And then she could go non-stop for hours, her body prickling and her ears burning.

She wondered if Veronica ever felt the same, but the jungle girl never mentioned it to her.  Did witches not have the same torment?

"Marguerite, are you coming out sometime today," Roxton's jovial voice called out to her from somewhere deeper in the tree house.

Marguerite sighed, reaching for her khaki skirt and sky-blue blouse.  She immerged minutes later, her still wet hair dripping down her shirt.  She stopped in the entryway, her eyes softening at the sight before her.

John was slouched on the bench, his feet laid across the seat.  In one arm was Lillian and in the other William.  He was singing softly to them, slightly off-tune but the babies didn't notice.  John had one of those rich, soothing voices that you could listen to forever.

He kissed first one and then the other before tenderly peering up at his wife.  "Are they asleep, yet," he whispered, unable to see their sweet faces.

Marguerite stepped closer, staring lovingly at her children and nodding.  "Yes," she whispered back, gazing up into her husband's naked hazel eyes.  His coffee-olive eyes were truly the windows to his honorable soul: always so open and full of depth.  She was constantly finding herself lost in them.

Roxton brought his knees up, giving her room to sit.  "Malone had quite the story to tell," he said in hushed tones.

Marguerite sat down, snaking an arm around his legs to rest her hand on his hard, comforting stomach.  "What?"

"That Lilly knew Veronica was in trouble.  He said they were in the nursery, playing on the floor when Lilly began pointing out the window insistently."

Marguerite shrugged.  "So?"

"Well, darling, you didn't let me finish.  Lilly grew upset…began to cry.  Ned picked her up and checked the window for snakes.  When he looked down he saw Veronica on the ground.  It so happens that she had been hit by a poison dart."

"What?  But she looked fine when we saw her earlier.  Even with Challenger's antidote she should've been out of it for at least a day."

"Marguerite, you're missing the point.  Lilly knew, but how?"

"Coincidence, John.  Nothing more than that."

"Love, we've got to explore the possibility that maybe Lilly…"

"No, John," Marguerite pressed sternly.  "I thought we closed that subject.  Lillian is a perfectly normal child.  And I won't hear anything otherwise spoken about our daughter."  She stroked Lillian's back, murmuring:  "It was a coincidence."

_It had to be_.

End Chapter Four

Don't worry, the story will be picking up soon.  Sorry you have to swim through the boring stuff first, but I need to set the plot up.


	5. Sisters

**Zeus**:  I'm glad to hear that.  Say, how is your writing coming along?

**Keys**:  Well, things are about to get a little tenser.  I'll keep 911 handy.  Lol.

**Panda**:  Thanks!  

**KDC**:  Lol.  No, not really.  Yet, I'm glad you liked the chapter anyway.

**ChosenOne**:  Lol.  As long as I don't bore you along the way…you'd tell me if things do get boring, right?  Anyway, how are your stories coming along?

**Fab**:  Roxton would make such an adorable daddy!

**Taya**:  My lips are sealed.  Lol.  Anyway, Marguerite wouldn't be Marguerite if she weren't stubborn and quick-tongued.

**Clux**:  Sorry, but this'll probably have quite a few chapters, too.  Lol.  Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the other two parts.

**Bunny**:  Thanks for the review! 

Chapter Five

Sisters

The following morning, Marguerite awoke early.  She glanced over at her sleeping husband, rolling her eyes as he snored softly into her ear.  It was both an irritating sound, but a soothing one.  Smiling, she crawled out of the bed and padded her way to the twins' room.  She paused at the doorway, leaning against the frame and whispered: "Wishing they were yours?"

Veronica whipped around, William in one arm and Lillian in the other.  She grinned at her sister, bouncing the babies on her hips.  "They _are_ adorable.  But I guess I won't kidnap them."

"Glad to hear it."  Marguerite walked over and picked her son up out of Veronica's hold.  "You'll have your own someday," she said off-handedly as she ran her hand through William's hair.  "Ned will make a wonderful father, you know."

"Marguerite Roxton," Veronica scolded.

Marguerite laughed.  "Oh, come on, Veronica.  You two are obviously madly in love – have been since the first few months we showed up."

"Too many things have happened, Marguerite."

"Don't be ridiculous.  If John and I could work through our problems, then anyone can."

"But you had no choice.  You got pregnant."  
Marguerite paused, gazing at her son tenderly.  "You're right, but that doesn't change the fact."  She headed out the door, calling over her shoulder: "Let's get them fed."

Veronica followed, Lillian tugging at her curly blonde hair.  "So what has you up so early?"

Marguerite began to prepare the bottles.  "Restless, I guess."  Silence fell between them as Marguerite finished the task at hand.  She then joined Veronica at the table, handing her one of the bottles.  "Veronica, why did you heal so quickly?"

Veronica wrinkled her eyebrows.  "I don't know.  Though, I heard somewhere that witches are good with herbs and potions.  Maybe…I don't know…maybe my body heals faster, too."

"So you accept that you're a witch?"  Marguerite cringed, seemingly disliking the mere thought of it.

"I don't think there's room to argue after what happened with Klor.  I killed him with a bolt of lightening.  Witches are supposed to be able to manipulate the weather."

"How do you know all this?  Whose taught you about witches?"

"Clarias."

"What would she know," Marguerite scoffed.  "She's a medicine woman…"

Veronica looked at her pointedly.  "Exactly.  She's considered to be somewhat of a witch herself."

Marguerite huffed.  "Well what about sensations?  Do you get those?  A little tingling in your spine?"

"No," Veronica answered, looking worried.  "Do you?"

"No," Marguerite grunted, shaking her head, "of course not."

"Marguerite," Veronica warned.  "Don't lie to me."

"Well, all right, I do, but don't tell John.  He'll just get so damn protective."  Marguerite sighed and pulled the bottle away from William.  She hoisted her son up so that he was standing on her thighs.  "Sometimes out of nowhere I get this jolt…or a burning sensation.  And at times I sense things.  I just…_know_ something without really knowing."

"Like Lillian the other day," Veronica added softly.

Marguerite looked over at her daughter nestled in Veronica's arms.  "Yeah," she whispered.  "Like Lillian the other day."  She peered up at her jungle friend.  "That night, I had a…not a vision, but a…instinct.  I woke up, hearing voices.  John couldn't hear them.  We went to take a look and I got this overwhelming feeling that if John kept going the way he was then he would be killed.  And I knew that people were coming; and that they would harm us if we were found."

"What did you do?"

"Got our stuff and ran in the other direction."

"Marguerite, you can't hide from this.  Obviously you have power – stronger than what you're willing to tap into.  Remember what happened at the execution?"  

"I know, but I wish I could protect my children from the same fate."

"You can't stop fate."

Marguerite felt her heart constrict as she searched the faces of her babies.  "I know, but that doesn't I mean I won't try."

End Chapter Five

I hope no one's confused.  Clarias, by the way, is the medicine woman who helped Marguerite in the first two stories.  She only had a minor role so don't worry about her.

You don't need to know, but in case you're curious: The execution was in _U.D_. chapters 21. _Rescue_  &  22. _Phantom_


	6. Darkness Whispers

**Kat**:  Yep, she did!  Now aren't you a little mind reader.  Lol.

**MR-Forever**:  Marguerite was just teasing Veronica because she knows that Veronica wants children, too.  Trust me, the twins are Roxton's.  I wouldn't have it any other way.  Lol.  Thanks for the review!  

**Spirita**:  Well I'm really glad!  Lol.  

**Panda**:  I'm trying, but life sometimes gets in the way of my storytelling (now isn't that unfair?  Lol.).

**KDC**:  John knows of her power.  He just doesn't know she's experiencing…uh…"side effects" I guess would be the best way to put it.  Anyway, lots of people don't like Veronica, but I think she's ok.  I wasn't fond of her in the first season, but she's not as snobby/bitchy as she once was.

**ChosenOne**:  Stalled?  Why?  Writer's block?  Anyway, thanks for signing up as my "boring monitor."  Lol.

**Keys**:  Remember when I told you I would keep 911 handy?  This is why…

**Taya**:  Promise!  For now.

Chapter Six

Darkness Whispers

Marguerite shivered, bitter cold with numb fingers and frozen toes.  The wind howled a ghostly tale as it swept through the branches of the jungle's aging trees causing her insides to shrivel against the frosty air.  She forced open her eyes, but saw nothing: the world was covered in a cloak of darkness.  Fear hesitating her movements, she slowly brought her hands out, exploring the space around her.  She gasped as her fingers struck what felt like wood.  She ran her hands all around her, frantic when she realized she was confined inside a tiny box.

Was she even still inside the tree house?  Most likely not.

Frightened, tears stinging her eyes, she pounded against her prison and screamed.  She felt a wetness seeping down her hand and she knew that she had sliced open her knuckles, but continued to strike the wood more forcibly.  "Help," she cried and then went on shrieking.

Where was Roxton?  Where were her babies?

_Lillian_!  _William_!

"Somebody help me," she screeched, tearing the flesh away from her fingers as she slammed them against the wooden coffin.

Coffin.  That must be what she was in…a coffin…a grave.  Had they buried her alive?  Did they think she was dead?

"I'm not dead," she screeched.  "I'm not dead!  Let me out!  I'm not dead!  I'm not…

--

"…dead.  I'm not dead," she murmured in her sleep, her hand flinging out and slapping Roxton in the face.

Roxton grumbled, pushing her arm away from him.  It must've been only four in the morning and he was exhausted from his previous day's hunting trip.  He rolled onto his side, rubbing the grogginess from his hazel eyes.  It's then he heard her murmuring, and he stroked her face gently.  "Shh, Marguerite.  Love, it's only a dream."

She jerked awake, gasping for air, sucking the oxygen harshly into her lungs.  "I'm not dead," she exclaimed.

"I know that, you silly little thing."  Roxton pecked her nose and then continued to caress her smooth skin.  "You want to tell me what that was all about?"

Marguerite, wild-eyed, sharply looked his way, her breathing gradually returning to normal, but her heart went on like a freight train.  "No," she breathed.  "No.  It was…just a dream.  Go back to sleep, John."  She patted his shoulder, gently pushing him fully back onto the mattress.

"Are you sure you're all right," he inquired, not looking convinced.

"Yes," she retorted.  "I just need some water."  She crawled off the bed and grabbed her robe from the end of the small, wooden frame.  "Just go back to sleep.  I'll be right back."

"Are you sure you don't want me to…"

"Positive."  Marguerite gave him an incisive look.  "Come on.  I'm a big girl.  I can handle getting a glass of water and checking on the twins all by my grown-up self."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Marguerite," his tone light and teasing.  "Sometimes you can be quite the damsel in distress."

She tossed him a haughty glare.  "I have never needed your help, Lord John Roxton.  I can manage just perfectly fine on my own."

"Oh sure," he replied with a smug grin.  "You mean like when a swarm of icemen kidnap you to be their new breeding queen?  Or when a strange cult wants to sacrifice you in the belief that your death will prevent the annihilation of their people?  Or when…"

"Ok, ok, I get the bloody point," she interjected, smiling.  "Now shut up and go to sleep.  I'll be back in a few minutes."

She slipped from the room, careful to draw the blanket back over the doorway.  Quietly, she went to the kitchen and retrieved one of the canteens.  Not bothering to get a cup, she unscrewed the lid and took a long swallow.  The warm water embraced her dry throat, making her hum with pleasure.

She was alive.

Marguerite replaced the canteen – making a mental note to fill it back up in the morning – and then headed towards the twins' bedroom.

"_Marguerite_," a faint whisper filtered through on the breeze.

Marguerite stopped, whipping around and scanning the room.  Was her imagination just running wild or…

"_Marguerite, this way_," he hissed.

Marguerite jumped, her stomach lurching into her throat.  "No," she whispered.  "No.  You're dead."

He cackled.  "_This was, Marguerite_," he taunted with gleeful cruelty_.  "This way_."

"No," she screamed, her long curls falling into her face.  "You're dead!  Damn it, she killed you!"

A murky shadow – roughly outlining the silhouette of a man – fell across the floor and over the children's doorway.  "You're mine," he hissed.

"Marguerite," Roxton hollered off to the side.  He came sprinting towards her, his eyes darting around, searching for danger.  "Marguerite," he said upon reaching her side.  "What's wrong?  Whose dead?"

She pushed passed him, rushing into the babies' room.  "No one," she lied, peering down into Lillian's crib.  She rubbed her hand over the baby and then turned around and marched over to William's crib.

"Damn it, Marguerite, don't give me that line," he ordered, checking on Lillian himself.  "Something's spooked you and I want to know what."

"Just the effects of my dream, John.  Nothing more."  Satisfied that her children were safe, Marguerite sat on the rocker that the four other members of the tree house (John, Ned, Veronica, and George) had made her for Mother's Day.

Roxton came to kneel in front of her.  "Marguerite, please."

She sighed, wrung the hem of her blouse between her hands.  "I thought… I thought I heard him."

"Him?"

She stared him dead-on, knowing the reaction he would have.  "Klor," she whispered.

Roxton shook his head.  "But he's dead.  Veronica killed him."

"I know," Marguerite emphasized.  "That's why I'm telling you that it was probably my imagination running wild because of my silly dream."  

"What was your dream about?"

"I don't know," she lied fluently.  "Who cares?  Can we just go back to bed?  I'm exhausted."

He looked for a moment as though he were going to press the matter, but decided to let it drop…for now.  "One must have their beauty sleep.  Come on, darling, let me escort you to your chambers."  He swept his arms underneath her and scooped her up.

She giggled, rolling her eyes.  "Always the gentleman, I see," she laughed as he carried her back to their room.

End Chapter Six

And there is plenty more of where that came from!


	7. A Child Knows

**Panda**:  I would, too!  But this is Marguerite and she's so stubborn: the stupid woman.  Lol.  Yet, she did tell him, she just chalked it up to her nightmare.

**Keys**:  I fear what's going on in my mind, too.  Lol.  

**Clux**:  I'm glad you thought it was a bit scary.  That was what I was aiming for!

**Kat**:  Oh, he won't let it drop that easily.  He knows something is wrong.

**Taya**:  Hey, you're story, _Revelations_, is great.  I've been waiting for chapter 9 for over a week now.  So don't you dare stop!  And don't compare your writing to mine because I **_hate_** my stories.  I only write because it's something to do: a hobby that I spend very little effort on.  I can tell that you, on the other hand, must put a lot of work into your story because it's so well thought out.   

Chapter Seven

A Child Knows

Part One

Marguerite heaved William higher up on her slim waist as she trekked around the fenced-in "yard".  She refused to allow anyone to take her children passed the security of the electric fence, maternal anxiety overriding the others' assurances that an occasional jaunt would be of no harm.  Yet, Marguerite had experienced first hand time-and-time again the perils of the Lost World and was petrified that ape-men, cavemen, cannibals, dinosaurs, shifting planes of reality, and unnatural visitors would threaten her babies' precious lives.  Like any good mother, she didn't want to take the risk.

Even caged in behind deadly watts of electricity, Marguerite was on alert.  It had been known to happen that the fence's protection wasn't always effective.  She shifted her stormy green eyes along the perimeter and scanned the tree line.  Any sign of danger and she would be in the elevator within seconds.

She heard the sound of the lift and headed back towards it in time to see Roxton strolling off, Lillian in one hand and his rifle in the other.  He swung the weapon onto his shoulder, opting to use his now free hand in order to ruffle William's hair.  "There's the handsome lad," Roxton boosted.

Marguerite rolled her eyes.  "Did you expect him to be anything else?  He is your son."

Roxton grinned like Cheshire cat, bouncing Lillian on his hip.  "And this highness here is as gorgeous as her mother."

"Does her highness need her diaper changed," Marguerite accused, giving him "the look".  Her husband had been known to go out of his way to avoid changing the cloth diapers.  For a man who once hunted wild game for a hobby, he sure was squeamish about what came out of their children.

Roxton chuckled, lifting Lillian high into the air and sniffing her behind.  "Nope," he replied lightly, allowing Lillian to drop back into the nook of his arm.  "Her highness, Lady Lillian, just wanted to see his majesty, Lord William"

"Oh really," Marguerite retorted with a raised eyebrow.

Roxton rubbed his nose against Lillian's soft cheek, causing her to giggle and wiggle in his arms.  "Tell mum what you told me, Lilly.  Can you say William?  William?"

"Dada, mama," Lilly exclaimed, clapping her hands.

Roxton chuckled.  "Yes, Lilly: dada and mama.  But can you say William?  Will-iam?"

"Wiy-um," Lillian shouted, pointing to her brother.

Marguerite's mouth fell open and she gasped with amazement.  "That's right, sweetie."  She looked at the baby in her arms.  "William, can you say Lillian or Lilly?  Lilly?"

"Liwy," he cried, bouncing up and down.  "Liwy." 

"Oh, John, they're learning a new word practically everyday."

"I know," he exclaimed, utterly awed and impressed with their babies.  "You know what Lilly said this morning?  I was eating an apple and when I got down to the end, Lilly began saying 'core' over and over again."

"How would she know that?"

Roxton shrugged.  "Beats me.  Our children are geniuses."  He paused, eyeing Marguerite with lighthearted suspicion.  "Are you sure they're mine.  Because if I didn't know any better I would venture that they were Challenger's little buggers," he teased.

Marguerite was about to retort when she suddenly grew pale as a frightening thought clouded over her.  "John…maybe she wasn't referring to the apple."

"What do you mean?  What else…" a look of horror washed over him and he instinctively held his little girl tighter.  "You don't honestly think…I mean, she was only two months old when she was kidnapped by Klor."

"Core," Lillian announced, thinking her father would be happy that she repeated a word.

Instead, Roxton sighed heavily, scolding Marguerite with a look.  "Last night," he said.  "I knew there was more to it than what you were telling me, but I didn't want to push you because I knew you weren't ready to discuss it.  But now…now you have to tell me everything."

Marguerite gazed at her sweet daughter and murmured: "All right, but inside."

Part Two

"God damn it, Marguerite, why the bloody hell didn't you say something," Roxton reprimanded.

"I told you that I'd heard him," she yelled back, self-protective of her account of the previous night.

"Yes, but then you said it was because of your dream.  A dream you claimed you couldn't remember.  And you never mentioned that you actually _saw_ him!"

"I didn't say I saw him," she defended.  "I said I saw what I can only guess to be was his shadow!"

"Yes, but you didn't even tell me that last night!"

"Will you quit yelling at me!  You have no right to stand there and…"

"Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Roxton," he answered overly sweet, obviously mocking her.  Then he bellowed: "I'm sorry for being concerned about the well-fare of my children!"

"Don't you dare, John," she seethed, "think that for one moment I – their mother – am not concerned about their safety.  Their well-being is all I've thought about since I learned I was pregnant.  I would die before I allowed a single hair on their head be harmed."

"Then why didn't you say something," Roxton stressed.

"I don't know!"  Marguerite collapsed onto the bed, bowing her head.  "I guess…I guess I just hoped that it was all in my head," she murmured.  "I hate the thought that Klor could be here.  I mean, the man is supposed to be dead.  Veronica killed him.  And now to think that Lillian has seen him…" she sighed, tears pricking at her eyes.  "What if he comes to her often?  What if…what if he plans on taking her again?  I don't think I could go through that again."

Roxton gently sat beside her, taking her into his arms.  "It's all right, love.  I won't let that bloody bastard take her."

"You didn't let him last time, but he still managed to take her."

Roxton squeezed his eyes shut, hating the fact that Marguerite was right.  What if he tried his best at protecting his family…and failed?  Again.

End Chapter Seven

THANK YOU all who have read this far!  I'm shuffling along, but will eventually get to the real stuff soon enough (hopefully).


	8. Nightly Activities

**Kat**:  Lord John Roxton hunter extraordinaire + diaper changing = NO WAY!  Lol.  I think he would make a wonderful father, but changing soiled diapers is crossing the line.

**KDC**:  Hey, I do what I can.  Lol.

**Keys**:  _grimaces_ Ah, sorry, buddy, but…no…this is only the tip of the iceberg.  By the way, I love the quote you have up on your bio.  I've used it myself once or twice. 

**ChosenOne**:  Updates more often?  Don't count on it.  _sighs_ All this staring at the computer screen is giving me headaches.  Anyway, you never answered my question: do you have writer's block on _Destiny Calls_?  It's been over three months since the last update.

**Panda**:  Your wish will _not_be granted.  Well…at least not totally.  EEK!  But things need to go wrong or this wouldn't be much of a story.  Sorry!  But don't worry: neither Lillian nor William will die…or, at least I don't plan to kill them.

**Fab**:  One has to wonder…Anyway, when are you going to start writing fanfic?  Or have you already and I just don't know about it?

**Zeus**:  Thanks!  How are your stories coming along?

**Taya**:  For someone from Germany, you write better English than some Americans: no lie.  So, I wouldn't worry too much about it.

**MMJ**:  Ah, so many questions!  Lol.  Yet, as much as I would love to answer them…I won't!  I refuse!  You can't make me!  You're just going to have to keep on reading!

**EVERYONE**:  I'm terribly sorry for the long delay.  I've been ill.  Anyway, have you bought your copy of the _Lost World Season One_, yet?

Chapter Eight

Nightly Activities

Marguerite had relented under Roxton's pressure to finally inform the others of her experiences.  Naturally, they were all concerned for the children.  It was decided that they would take shifts keeping watch.  It was Malone's turn and the early morning found him in the rocker scribbling in his journal.

_Even as I write these words I know it sounds outlandish.  Who in their stable mind would believe such incredible accounts of sorcerers and awesome displays of magic?  Magic.  No.  That's not the correct word for what's happening here.  It's not magic.  There are no rabbits being pulled from hats or mirror illusions tricking your eyes.  This is something real…and – dare I say – evil_.

_How would Marguerite react to such an assumption?  I think that she senses the root of her power is evil, but she doesn't want to face it.  For if her power is evil wouldn't that make her evil?  And – more disturbingly – if she is evil then that must mean that she's given birth to evil by passing on her wickedness.  Yet, what mother can accept such a vile thought of her daughter being the progeny of wickedness_?

Malone set his pen down, pondering that last paragraph.  Could it be that Lillian was partially immoral due to the evil power passed down to her by her mother?  Not that Marguerite would be to blame.  She had no control over what was unraveling.  In fact, that got him wondering: was Marguerite's father – a sorcerer – one who was cast away by the Protector (Veronica's and Marguerite's mother)?  Could it be that he was malicious?  An evil sorcerer who tricked Abigail into his bed in order to pass on his tainted blood?

"What's got you thinking so hard," a warm voiced teased from above him.

Malone jerked, his eyes flashing up.  He'd been caught being inattentive.  It would be his head on a silver platter if either Marguerite or Roxton found out he hadn't been paying attention.  "Marguerite's father," he answered distractedly.

Veronica looked at him quizzically.  "Her father?"

Malone shook his head.  "Never mind."  He closed his journal and set it aside on the floor.  "What are you doing up?  I'm not supposed to wake you for another hour."

The jungle beauty shrugged, softly walking towards Lillian's crib.  Peering down at the sleeping angel, Veronica whispered: "Couldn't sleep."

Malone nodded in understanding.  "Anxious, I know."

Veronica chuckled.  "No.  Marguerite and Roxton were making too much noise.  Didn't you hear them?"

Malone smiled sheepishly.  "Nope.  I guess I was lost more in my writing than I thought."  He paused, straining his ears.  "I don't hear them now either."

Veronica strolled back to him and Malone stood up, offering the chair to her.  She gratefully accepted while Malone took residence on the floor.  "Well, they're done now.  It was that last stifled scream that finally got me out of bed.  I give them credit for at least attempting to keep quiet."

Malone laughed.  "I'm surprised.  They usually are careful at keeping silent.  Normally, I never hear a thing except maybe the creaking of the bed."

"There was that one time, though," Veronica pointed out, holding back a smile.  "Remember?  Roxton was practically howling."

"Oh God, why'd you remind me?"  Malone groaned in exaggerated agony.  "And then they both began moaning so loud it disrupted the wildlife."

Veronica giggled, highly amused at the memory.  "I don't think they knew we were home.  Because moments later Roxton stumbled out wearing only his trousers."

"And they were unzipped," Malone exclaimed.

"The look on his face was priceless!"

"He was shocked."

"Horrified."

"Embarrassed."

"Remember what he said?"

Malone snorted.  "How could I forget?"  He cleared his throat and in his best Roxton interpretation said: "'You heard that?  Because I can explain.  We were only…'  And by that time we were laughing too hard to hear his excuse."

Veronica sighed, gaining control of her laughter.  "The poor guy."

"Hey," a voice called out harshly.

Veronica and Malone whipped their heads around to see Roxton poking his head into the room.

"Could you guys keep it down," the hunter ordered.  "Some people are trying to sleep around here."

Veronica and Malone looked at each other and burst out laughing.

End Chapter Eight

I began writing this with the intent of making it a suspenseful chapter, but this is what came out instead.  Oh well.


	9. Against the Moonlight

**Panda** _and_ **KDC**:  I'm glad you enjoyed it!

**MMJ**:  Thank you.  And I guess it was time for a little comic relief.  I hope you don't get too attached to comedy, though.  Dun-dun-dun!  Things are about to get tense again.

**Fab**:  Have you ever considered posting them here?

**Chosen One**:  My fingers are crossed!  And thank you very much for the compliment.

**Taya**:  Hey, you deserved the compliment.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  Anyway, I'm glad you found interest in the beginning part.  It was a very important assumption that Malone was making.  It may just pop up again later on.

**Keys**:  It's nice to be seen!  I'm feeling much better now, thank you.  And you can tell your sister that you're not strange, but "special".  _smiles_

**Alex**:  Oh, I don't think he's the silent type either.  _wiggles eyebrows_  Yet, you must remember that they're having sex in a tree house that doesn't provide much privacy.  I bet he struggles to keep quiet; and it must be real hard for him to do so.

Chapter Nine

Against the Moonlight

Part One

The birds' chirping, though annoying, was a sign that no dinosaurs were creeping around, waiting to slash their throats.  Marguerite heaved the rifle strap higher up her slender shoulder and grumbled as she began to scale the rocky hillside.  She squinted up against the glaring sun – estimating how much further she had to climb – when Roxton's alluring behind cast a shadow over her face.  Marguerite smiled: "As much as I loathe you at the moment, I must say that I'm rather enjoying the privileged view."

"You better be," he called down to her.  "Achieving this privileged arse didn't come easily."

Marguerite barked a laugh, her hand reaching up and grasping onto another foothold.  "Are you saying that you were a chubby little boy, Lord Roxton?"

"Not in the slightest.  In fact, I was enforced with the idea that a good gentleman was not only polite and chivalrous, but also strong and healthy.  You can't properly manage your household while being a fat lump in bed.  And you surely won't live long enough to enjoy the pleasures of life if you die early of a heart attack."

"So your privileged ass didn't come easily because you spent your days playing outside," Marguerite guessed accusingly, amused at the thought of John being forced to play lacrosse with the other young successors.

"Hardly.  Granted, my brother was to become the heir so he was brought up much more strictly than I.  Yet, I was still a Roxton," he added mockingly, "and therefore I, too, had to learn how to horseback ride, fence, ballroom dance," he cringed at the final item.

"Mr. Robertson"

"What?"  By now Roxton had reached the top.  He hauled himself up over the ledge then turned, lowering his arm down to Marguerite.

She gratefully accepted, placing her hand in his and allowing him to heave her up the rest of the way.  "Your pony.  You once told me that you named your pony Mr. Robertson."

Roxton laughed, shaking his head slightly in merriment.  "I'd forgotten about that."

Marguerite dusted off her blouse and trousers; and then eyed her husband with a playful smirk.  "And why, John, would a young boy name his pony Mr. Robertson?  I would expect something more manly from you."

Roxton gave a soft smile, seemingly slipping into his memories.  "Mr. Robertson was named after a dear friend.  James Robertson was a servant at my father's estate.  He taught me how to ride, fish, swim.  He was more of a father to me than my real one."

Marguerite stepped closer, frowning.  "What happened to him?"

Roxton closed his eyes briefly.  When he opened them to gaze into her eyes, they were wet with salty tears.  "What happens to everybody…he died."  Roxton cleared his throat as he shifted his weight.  "We better keep moving.  It'll be dark soon.  We need to find a place to camp."

Marguerite felt the urge to press for more answers, but felt it would only cause more damage.  Instead, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a tender squeeze.  She smiled warmly up at him.

He pecked her on the nose and then led the way, never releasing her hand.

Part Two

Marguerite stirred, curling up tighter against Roxton's chest as a draft filtered between them.  She cracked open her eyes, peering out into the stillness of the plateau.  Or, that of which she could see of it perched high in a colossal tree, resting against their backs against the trunk.  She watched the leaves sway gently in the breeze, elegant and tranquil in the moonlight.

She felt oddly at peace; something so unusual she hardly recognized it for what it was.  Even when singing lullabies to her babies by the fire, she always carried this sense of apprehension, terrified that something was going to disrupt their lives or – worse yet – harm her children.  Yet, now, in the calm, solitude of the late hours, nestled against her husband, Marguerite was at ease.

She smiled, tiredness sneaking up on her, but she was wistful to fall under its spell, afraid that she'd loose this moment of serenity forever.

And then she saw it: something darting among the trees.  Marguerite flinched and then inched away from Roxton in order to lean over the edge and peer down into the underbrush.  The tall grass swayed as something sprinted closer.

Marguerite's breath caught in her throat and she nudged Roxton with her boot.  He jerked awake, already reaching for his rifle.  Marguerite continued to stare out into the night, fear gripping her stomach when the movements in the underbrush suddenly stopped directly below the tree.

"What is it," Roxton whispered hoarsely in her ear.

Marguerite shook her head.  "I don't know.  Something was moving around down there.  And then it stopped right underneath us."

Roxton gingerly pulled her back and then shifted his gaze across the ground.  "Did you catch a glimpse of it?  Was it a dinosaur?"

"I didn't see it, but it couldn't have been a dinosaur."

"I don't see a thing.  Are you sure it stopped right underneath us?"

"Yes."

"Well, hopefully whatever it is can't climb," he said lightly.

"This isn't the time for jokes, John."

"Why, Marguerite, I'm not joking."  Roxton glanced her way with his eyebrows raised.  "I really hope it can't climb.  I for one don't want to become a midnight snack."

Marguerite clenched her teeth and scanned the area around them.  Her heart skipped a beat when there, silhouette standing on a branch against the pale light of the moon, flashed into the corner of her eye.  She whipped her head around and gasped.

Roxton jolted, whirling around in his crouched position, the barrel of his gun swinging with him.  "What," he cried out.

Marguerite pointed her finger toward the shadowy figure.  "There!  Don't you see it?"

"See what?  There's nothing there."

Marguerite gulped.  Roxton was right.  There was nothing there.  Then what had she seen?  "I…I swear there was something there a moment ago."

"Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you."

"Yeah," she murmured.  "Maybe." 

"Come on, go back to sleep.  I'll keep watch."

"Not a chance in Hell," she retorted.  "I couldn't possibly sleep now."

"You need your rest."

"So do you," she bit back.  "Why don't you go back to sleep?  I'll take the first shift."

"No way, Marguerite.  I'm staying up."

"Please, John.  I'll wake you up in two hours.  I promise.  We've got a long day ahead of us and we won't make it stumbling through the jungle because of a lack of sleep."

Roxton hesitated, knowing she was right, but upset with the situation.  "Fine.  But one hour.  No later."

Marguerite held up her right hand.  "Promise."

Part Three

Marguerite was already awake when Roxton shook her.  She moaned and stretched, cracking open her eyes to find her handsome Lord gazing down at her.  "Good morning," he said huskily.

"Mornin'," she replied with a yawn.  "I don't suppose you'll make me a cup of coffee?"

"Mmm," he answered as though considering it, as though they both didn't already know that he would do it.  "I don't know.  I guess it depends.  How much do you love me?"

"Enough to allow you the honor of making me a cup of coffee."

Roxton laughed.  "Ok, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine.  I'll make you coffee while you sit there looking pretty."

Roxton and Marguerite climbed down the tree.  The hunter, who'd gone down first, placed his hands on either side of the trunk as Marguerite climbed down, entrapping his wife between the tree and him.  "Have I told you I loved you lately?"

Marguerite sighed, turning around to face her adorable husband.  "Not for a few days now."

Roxton gasped dramatically.  "What a horrid crime!  I must be locked away at once."  He bent down and nibbled on her neck.

Marguerite giggled and rolled her eyes.  "You pick the worst timing to be feisty."

Roxton chuckled against her throat, the heat of his breath tingling her skin and she suppressed a moan.  "John, honestly, now's not the time."

"I know."  He pulled back with a silly grin plastered across his face.  "That doesn't mean I can't try and entice you."

"I'll let you seduce me later.  Now make me my coffee, Lord Roxton, or you won't be needing your hands."

Roxton held up his arms in surrender.  "Yes, my Lady, as you wish."  Then, whistling, he went about preparing her coffee. 

End Chapter Nine

I hope you enjoyed the little mixture of humor, drama, suspense, and romance.

Chapter Ten: _Out of the Grave_ coming soon!


	10. Out of the Grave

**Alex**:  Lol.  Actually, half the time I don't know either.  I have no plans.  I just go with the flow.

**Clux**:  I figured the title would intrigue people.  Anyway, yeah, I get ill off and on.  Yet, as of now, I'm feeling pretty well.  Thanks.

**Panda**:  Could be Klor…but maybe it wasn't…hee, hee, hee…

**Fab**:  That's too bad.  What's Carolyn's web address?  Maybe I'll pop in and read a few of your stories.  That is, if you don't mind.

**Taya**:  Well, gee, I'm not all that patient either.  Where's your next chapter?  Coming soon?  _hopeful smile_  Anyway, thanks for the wonderful compliments.  They really make my day.

**MMJ**:  Thank you so much.  _big smile_  You'll find out what she saw in this chapter so read to find out!

**KDC**:  Thanks!  Are you working on any stories, yet?

**Keys**:  Lol.  Me?  Enjoy scaring you?  Of course not.  _evil laugh_ And I don't know.  I think **ChosenOne** may have let your secret out.  It may just be why you get those weird looks.  Lol.

**ChosenOne**:  Hey!  It's not stupid.  And if you dare spend another 3 months before your next chapter then I _will_ kill you – and not with suspense.  _gives you a warning glare_ Got it?  (Lol.)    

**Kat**:  You're right.  It wasn't mentioned in _Unexpected Danger_.  Don't worry.  You haven't missed anything.  And I can't kill you with romance.  Sorry, but what would I tell the police?

**Madge**:  Thanks!  I'll try!

**Julia**:  Thank you very much; and I intend to not only continue it, but finish it as well!  _big smile_

**Zeus**:  I'll be sure to swing by and read it.  Thanks for the review!

Chapter Ten

Out of the Grave

The day was uneventful as they trudged along the uneven ground conversing about everything and nothing.  Marguerite had nearly forgotten her terror of the previous night as the sun began to set and the stars started to peek out from hiding.  She trekked along behind Roxton's right shoulder, grumbling about how she always had to be the one to hike to the villages simply because she knew the languages.  It was then she collided into the hunter, grunting as her chin smacked into his shoulder.  "What," she complained.  "We still have some daylight left.  I would like to make it to the village and sleep indoors for a civilized change.  You may enjoy these jaunts into the forest, but I…"

"Quiet," he scolded in a harsh whisper, raising his rifle and pointing it towards the underbrush a few yards away.

Marguerite groaned and unclipped her pistol from its holster.  "What now," she whined bitterly.

Roxton placed a finger to her lips, silencing her from saying anything else.  "Raptors," he whispered.  "Two…maybe three."

Marguerite's heart skipped a beat and then raced like a horse until her stomach began to get queasy.  Ever since becoming a mother, she grew more and more terrified of the dangers on the plateau.  She couldn't face the possibility of her children having to grow up without her.  She – being an orphan herself – dreaded the very notion of being forced to abandon her children whether through death or some other cruel twist of fate.

"What are they waiting for," she mumbled, scanning the surrounding area.

"I don't know," Roxton replied hoarsely.  "Maybe we should wait them out.  Let's climb that tree over there."  Roxton was a hunter at heart, but even he didn't want to risk their lives and leave their children parentless.  He led Marguerite to the tree and kept watch as she scurried up it.  He then followed her.

-*-*-*-

Two hours had passed before Marguerite sighed and muttered: "Looks like we're stuck sleeping outdoors for another night."

Roxton shrugged and leaned back against the trunk.  "Better that then in the belly of a bloody beast."

Marguerite snorted and repositioned herself so that she was nestled between his legs, her head resting in his lap.  "I wonder what they're doing."

"They should be in bed."

"Mmm," Marguerite agreed.  "I hope they haven't learned any new words without us."

Roxton laughed.  "Darling, we've only been gone two days.  You act as though we haven't seen them in weeks.  And why so clingy all of a sudden?"

Marguerite set her jaw in arrogance.  "I'm not clingy," she defended.  "I'm a mother.  And good mothers worry and wonder about their babies.  So excuse me for loving my children enough to worry and wonder."

"Oh, Marguerite, again you twist my words around.  You know damn well what I meant."  He pecked her on the top of her curly head.  "I know you're a damn fine mother.  You won't hear any arguments from me, Marguerite."

"And you're the best father they could ever have," Marguerite said softly.  "I…I wouldn't have wanted any other man to be their father."

Roxton grinned and tightened his arms around her.  "Go to sleep, love.  I'll take the first watch."

-*-*-*-

A cool breath of air brushed across her as it were whispering a forewarning.  As though captivated by an eerily sixth sense, Marguerite slowly drew away from Roxton and peered down the path into the darkness.  Against the hauntingly enchanting moonlight, a shadow was cast over the trail.  Marguerite hunched further down, trying to avoid detection even though she knew its eyes were boring into her.  She could feel its gaze tingling her skin and raising the tiny hairs on her neck.

"Why do you show yourself to me," she murmured under her breath.

The murky silhouette vanished.  Marguerite held her breath, fear causing her blood to thicken into ice.  A bush swayed; and she began to shiver, unable to contain the terror to just her mind.  

A twig snapped.  

Frozen in place, she couldn't cry out to Roxton; and the warmth of his presence seeped away.  She felt trapped and vulnerable.  Was Roxton even there?  Or was she now the only living person left on earth: alone in this world of torment and horrors?

A rustling noise below the tree brought tears to her eyes.  _Go away_, her thoughts begged.  _Please, go away.  Please.  Leave me alone_.

"_Mar_…_guer_…_ite_," the wind hissed.

_No, not the wind_, she realized, squeezing her eyes shut.  _Dear God, it's not the wind_.  Her tears spilled over, cascading over her pale cheeks.

"_Marg_…_uerite_."

"No," she whispered inaudibly.  "No.  Go away."

"_Marguerite_," the scratchy voice snickered into her ear.

Marguerite gasped, catching her breath.  Her lips trembled as she silently wept; and her lungs burned with the need for air.

"_This way, Marguerite_," he taunted."_This way_."

A cold caress, like frigid fingertips, grazed her cheeks and Marguerite's eyes sprung open as she jerked away, screeching: "_NOOO_!"  In that instant, she had jolted too far and rolled off the branch, plummeting to the ground below.  And just before she hit, she saw the terrorizing face of Klor and dozens of spine-chilling, expressionless spirits peering down at her.

End Chapter Ten

Sorry it took awhile.  I was working on my other stories.  And then FF.net was wacky for a couple days.


	11. Bloodlines

**ChosenOne**:  You're right.  You caught me.  It's _all my_ fault.  I blabbed to everyone about Keys. _rolls eyes_  Yeah right!  WE KNOW IT WAS YOU!  Don't deny it you crazy nut!  And, yes, falling out a tree is pretty funny.  

**Panda**:  _gives you a cookie for being right_  Now, can Roxton save her?  We will see!

**E1stwin**:  Thanks!  And I'm still waiting for your chapter…_gives you a raised eyebrow_  And it may be awhile before I start another TLW fic, so that humor one you want may be a long ways away.  However, in _And the World Turns_ there are a few funny moments/one-liners.  But I really wouldn't label it under humor.  I don't know.  I guess you'll just have to wait.  Lol. 

**Taya**:  It's now Friday.  Where's your chapter?  Lol.  Anyway, thank you so much for the sweet compliment.  It's greatly appreciated.

**Keys**:  It's a deal.  Get her to write that next chapter or else!  Anyway, yeah, I have a confession to make.  _clears throat nervously_  The truth is: _X-files_ will always remain my biggest obsession.  I'm not psychotic over it now, but you should've seen me when the show was still going.  I was the biggest crazy fan.  I was so obsessed it was sick.****

**Kat**:  Cliffhangers or – in this case – tree droppers are my precious trademark.  Lol.  I can't give it up!  I'm hooked!

**AK8**:  Thank you!****

-*-*-*-*-

Chapter Eleven

Bloodlines

She fought against the darkness, struggling to escape the icy, barren grasp of unconsciousness.  Moaning as she returned from the wraps of slumber, she pried her eyes open and squinted against the harsh glare of sunlight seeping in through the window of the Zanga hut.  She tilted her head to the side, gasping at the sharp pain that vibrated against her nerves.

"Easy, darling," a comforting thick and rich voice instructed as a warm hand caressed her cheek.  "You've got a nasty bump and a few scraps, but you'll be just fine.  Clarias patched you up good."  He brought a cup to her lips.  "Here, drink some water."

Marguerite complied, sipping at the lukewarm water.

"That's it, Marguerite."  He drew back to place the cup on a table before leaning close enough to her she could feel the heat of his body and the graze of his breath.  "You scared me to death, Marguerite.  I woke up and saw you on the ground and you weren't moving, hardly breathing.  What on earth were you doing that caused you to fall?"

"I saw him," she murmured, wincing as she struggled to hoist herself up.  "Klor was there.  He was taunting me and…and then he laughed…no, not laughed.  He snickered into my ear and I lost my balance.  I fell, but before I hit I saw him and these…these…phantoms were staring at me with these cold and empty eyes."

He eyed her oddly, taking in what she said with an air of doubt, but obvious concern.  "Marguerite, I don't know.  That sounds kind of…are you sure you saw what you did?"

"God, you still don't believe me!  I.  Saw.  Him.  He was there, John.  And I think he's been following me for a while."

"But Marguerite…he's dead.  Veronica killed him."

Marguerite sighed, grimacing as the pain in her head began to throb.  "John, maybe he didn't die.  Or maybe he is dead.  I don't know.  Maybe it's his ghost that's haunting me.  Last night…those spirits that were with him weren't just in my head.  They were real."

Roxton sighed.  "With everything we've encountered on this bloody plateau I guess there's no denying this."  He nodded, accepting her claims of the previous night.  "What do you think he wants?  Being dead, he can't need too many things."

Marguerite shrugged.  "I don't know.  It couldn't possibly be Lilly – not this time.  Revenge.  He's one damn twisted sorcerer and I bet he blames me for his death."

"But it was Veronica who killed him."

Marguerite groaned, getting irritated.  "Maybe he's just infatuated with me."  She closed her eyes, annoyed with the pounding in her head.  She remained silent, allowing her thoughts to wander when suddenly she snapped up, gasping.  "What if he's my father?"

"What?  But he said you're father…"

"Was dead.  I know.  But, John, how could we believe anything Klor told us?"  Marguerite shook her head, astonished.  "It all makes sense now.  It's how he knew I was the daughter of Abigail, but didn't know immediately that Veronica was.  It's how he knew that only Lillian or I could free him from the City of Malia.  It's why only Lillian or I could do it.  Not only because we're the descendents of Abigail, but also his descendents.  What if I am his daughter?  It would explain why Abigail abandoned me."

Roxton shook his head fervently.  "Abigail Layton would not have just abandoned you."

"Maybe she had no choice."  Marguerite's face dawned with understanding.  "That's it, John.  Abigail got pregnant with me, banned Klor to Malia, and then fled to the outside world.  There she gave me up, knowing that she couldn't raise me on the plateau because then Klor could get to me.  So, she gives me away in order to protect me.  And then meets Tom Layton.  Falls madly in love.  Returns to the plateau with him where they have Veronica."

Roxton sat back, drinking it all in.  "It does make since.  And even sounds plausible."  He bent back over, stroking her face.  "But if Klor is your father…what does he want?"

"I don't know."  Marguerite peered off into the distance.  "I just don't know."

End Chapter Eleven

Thanks for sticking it through with me!  I have no idea how long this will end up being.  Sorry if it's getting too lengthy.  Bye for now!


	12. Interruption

**Keys**:  You were right with this one, but wrong with the others.  Lol.  Maybe there isn't a key (no pun intended) to figuring me out.  Maybe I just do what I do.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.

**Panda**:  Twist and turns keep you on your toes.  Lol.

**Taya**:  Cinema?  What did you go see?  Was it good?

**KDC**:  Hey, I won't pressure you to write one.  If you prefer to be a reader than a writer then that's entirely your choice.  I bet you could do it, though.

**Zeus**:  I usually read before bed, too.  Thanks for stopping by!

**Fab**:  Lol.  I knew that!  I must be losing my marbles.  You don't have your own author page, though.  So, would you tell me the name of your stories so I don't have to hunt through all of them looking for yours?

**MMJ**:  I don't know how they'll beat the bad guy, but I'll figure something out.  Thanks, as always, for the review!

-*-*-*-*-

Chapter Twelve

Interruption

They continued on to the remote tribe of Seculis, traded gems and spices for cloth and a plant Challenger had insisted he needed, and headed back home without any further hitches.  On the final stretch of their journey, Marguerite trudged behind Roxton, groaning from the strain of keeping up with his long strides.  "John, I'm not a mule," she stated, agitated.

Roxton laughed, swinging his rifle to his other shoulder.  "I never said you were, Marguerite."  He whirled around on his heels so suddenly that Marguerite collided into his chest.  When she huffed and raised her head up to glare at him, Roxton only chuckled.  "Besides, wasn't it you who wanted to reach home before dinner?  Didn't you – not two hours ago – vehemently demand that I get you back in time to wash the twins and tuck them into bed?  Because the poor little lass and lad must be fearing we abandoned them?"

Marguerite scowled, folding her arms defensively.  "I'm their mother, John."

"Yes, and I am their father.  Your point?"

Marguerite brushed past him, muttering: "I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand."

"Whoa, there, Marguerite."  Roxton grabbed her arm, halting her from marching away.  "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Marguerite clenched her teeth, prying her arm out of his gentle grasp.  "What do you think it means, Lord John Richard Roxton?"

_Great_, Roxton thought sarcastically.  _Now she's in one of her moods_.

"You don't know what it's like to be abandoned," she stressed, her eyes shining with passion.  "All alone on the streets, struggling in any way you know how in order to survive.  It's a pitiful, lonely world when no one loves you.  When you don't even know your real name – let alone your full name.  I will never – _ever_ – allow my children to feel even the slightest sliver of my painful past.  I won't let them think for even a fleeting moment that I left them willingly or otherwise."

"Marguerite, you're blowing this out of the water, my love.  We've only been gone a few days.  Will and Lilly don't think we've abandoned them.  Besides, Malone and Veronica are wonderful with them.  And Challenger is the doting grandfather.  I doubt the twins have even realized we've been gone this long."

Marguerite bit her tongue and glanced away.

Roxton caressed her cheek tenderly.  "It's ok, Marguerite.  I know you're carrying around a heavy burden, especially with the threat of Klor looming in the shadows.  But, darling, that's what I'm here for.  Let me help you.  If I could, I would erase every haunting memory and sooth every ache in your heart."

Marguerite's lip trembled and she fought back her tears.  "I know, John.  I know."  She stroked his stubbly face.  "And I would do the same for you."

Roxton slowly leaned forward and captured her mouth with his in a lovingly.  He wrapped his arms around her slender waist, his kisses turning more passionate and hungry.  He moaned when his tongue slipped between her lips and he rubbed his hands along her back, pressing her more firmly to him.  Marguerite responded in kind, sliding her fingers over his chest as she melted into his fiery kisses.

"_My, my, my, sorry to interrupt_."

Marguerite leapt back, her eyes wild and her breathing rapid.  Roxton, stunned, took a moment to catch up.  He eyed her oddly.  "Marguerite?  Is something wrong?"

"Didn't you hear that," she asked desperately.

"Hear what, Marguerite?"

"The voice!"

Roxton paused, scanning the area.  He trained his eyes back to her face, noticing the fear and anxiety.  "No.  Was it Klor?"

Marguerite went ashen.  "No.  It was someone else."

"Who?"

"I…I don't know."

End Chapter Twelve

**~ ~ AUTHOR'S NOTE ~ ~**:  For some wacky reason, the last few months, FF.net has not allowed me to use anymore than one space between paragraphs.  Is anyone else having this problem?  How can I fix it?


	13. Lullaby

**Kat**:  They weren't interrupted in the first couple chapters.

**KDC**:  I think she would make a great mom.  She wouldn't be all 'lovey-dovey', but she would be protective and kind.

**ChosenOne**:  I am _this_ close to murdering you, my darling sis.  _NOW UPDATE_!  _clears throat_ Now, in this chapter – or the next – you'll learn who interrupted them and you have my permission to kick his ass.

**Keys**:  I'm trying!  Thanks for the vote of (in?) confidence.

**Panda**:  Klor verses New Creep…mmm…

**LadyMar**:  I think the answer will shock people.  

**Taya**:  I never even saw the first two _Scary Movies_.  They're not really my type, but I'm glad you had fun.

**Fab**:  You know if you had asked me sooner I would've been thrilled.  Unfortunately, I'm already the beta-reader of four other FF.net writers.  Yet, thank you so much for considering me.  I promise when I'm done helping the others I will check in and see if you still need a beta-reader.

-*-*-*-*-

Chapter Thirteen

Lullaby

Leaning back against the wicker chair, Marguerite groaned and wiggled her sore feet.  After she'd heard the voice, Roxton had grown paranoid and frantic, dragging her quickly home, ignoring her protests.  By the time they reached the tree house, Marguerite had swollen ankles and blisters.  Roxton felt guilty over her injuries, but still felt justified in his rash decision to rush them home.  Marguerite – though cursing the pain in her feet – couldn't blame him: he was scared.

And it wasn't easy to scare Lord John Roxton.

Roxton strolled out of the children's bedroom, William cradled in his left arm.  He was humming a tune she didn't recognize.  He wasn't the grand singer people would assume he was when they heard him speak in his husky, deep voice.  Yet, his rich voice was soothing and peaceful.

"What are you singing," Marguerite called out softly.

Roxton's head jerked up.  "Oh!  I didn't see you there, Marguerite."  His face now slightly red, he strolled over to where she was.  He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed.  She had caught him singing before.  "It's a lullaby my mother used to sing to me."

"How does it go?"

"Um…well…it's about a mother singing to her crying baby, and a father who…"

"No, John, sing it for me.  I never get to hear you sing."

Roxton lowered himself onto the chair beside her, rocking William gently in his arms.  "I…my voice isn't something to be proud of."

"Please?  You can pretend I'm not here.  Just…sing for your son."

Roxton sighed and fell back against his seat.  "_Baloo, my boy, lie still and sleep.  It grieves me sore to hear thee weep.  If thou'lt be silent I'll be glad.  Thy moaning makes my heart full sad_."

Marguerite listened intently as he went on singing.  The long lullaby sounded ancient coming off his lips.  By the time he was near the end, Marguerite was lost in his voice.

"…_father slain in foreign fight.  He, wounded, stood beside my bed.  His blood ran down upon thy head.  He spoke no word, but looked on me.  Bent low, and gave a kiss to thee!  Baloo, baloo, my darling boy.  Thou'rt now alone thy mother's joy_."

Marguerite's mouth dropped.  "Your mother sang that to you?"

Roxton laughed.  "There were others, but that one was her favorite one to sing to me.  William, on the other hand, she sang a different, happier lullaby to."

"Do you remember it?"

"How could I forget?  It reminded me constantly that I wasn't the favored son."

Marguerite tilted her head, panged by his confession.  "I'm sure they loved you just as much."

Roxton shrugged.

"Will you sing it for me?"

"It's an old Gaelic lullaby so don't mind the wordage."  He cleared his throat and began: "_Hush ye, my bairnie.  Bonny wee laddie.  When you're a man you shall follow your daddie._"  He looked to his wife.  "Sorry, don't remember the rest."   

Marguerite smiled softly.  "It's alright.  I think Will's asleep now.  Why don't you put him to bed and then join me in ours?"

Roxton's eyebrows rose.  "Are you offering yourself to me?"

Marguerite laughed.  "That's a delicate way of putting it."

"What about your sore feet?"

She brushed him off with a wave of her hand.  "Who cares?"

Roxton chuckled, standing up, careful not to wake William.  "Someone's a little anxious."

"Or a little twisted," she mumbled.  _Who would've thought John being an adorable father would be arousing_?

"What?"

"Nothing.  Go put him to bed."

Moments later he returned and the couple slipped off into their bedroom.

End Chapter Thirteen

Lullabies:

_Lady Anne Bothell's Lament_ written by either Bishop Percy or Joseph Corfe

_Hush Ye, My Bairnie_ (_Cagaran Gaolach_) written by Henry White


	14. Visitation

**KDC**:  They _are_ so fun!  I just love them!

**Panda**:  I just couldn't pass those lullabies up.  I'm glad you liked them.  The one that Roxton's mother sang to him is actually one that I have been taught.  It is really a long lullaby.

**Keys**:  I've given up on Tiffany.  I fear she'll never update.  So, I guess I get to kill her now.  Haha.

**Chosen**:  Get ready to fillet!  Yet…mmm…you may not want to once you learn who it is. 

**Kat**:  Oh, I am always cooking something dreadful up.  Haha.

**Taya**:  Couldn't you just imagine it?  I would love to hear John sing a haunting lullaby to his children.

**Courtney**:  I promise that no story will ever end like _Remember You_ ever again.  Yet…that doesn't mean I won't ever kill people again.

------

Chapter Fourteen

Visitation

Marguerite, moaning, rolled onto her back and stretched her arms high over her head.  She was achy and sore from yesterday's brutal trek home and last night's vigorous love making.  She inhaled a deep, refreshing breath before sitting up clumsily and peering down at the sleeping man beside her.  He was sprawled out, taking up more than his fair share.  His dark, chestnut hair was spiked in all directions and Marguerite couldn't help but reach over and brush away the few strands drifting over his eyes. 

It was time for another haircut.

Marguerite crawled off the bed silently, wincing when the rush of pressure filled her bladder.  Groaning, she staggered out of the room.  One of the worst parts of living far from civilization was the bathroom arrangement.

Passing the twins' bed, Marguerite paused.  Curious, she peered inside.  William and Lilliana were fast asleep, peaceful and unharmed.  Smiling, she proceeded with relieving herself.  When finished, she went back to her children's nursery and sat in the rocking chair, reflecting on the calmness settling over her.  Ever since she'd met Klor nearly two-and-a-half years ago, Marguerite rarely felt as though it would be safe to let her guard slip.

A breeze swept through the room and Marguerite closed her eyes, basking in the cool breath of air.  She allowed her walls to crumble, setting her mind free.  It felt wonderful to let go.

"Marguerite," a voice whispered tenderly from the doorway.

"Mmm," she mumbled.

"Thank you," he breathed into her ear, but it sounded as though he were miles away.

"For what," she laughed.

"Saving him."

Marguerite's eyes snapped open and she glanced back, her eyes going wide.  The space was empty.

Marguerite leapt to her feet and rushed from the room.  She ran to her bedroom and stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes fell on her still sleeping husband.  She was about to cry out to him, but held back.  Whoever had talked to her hadn't frightened her.  His voice had held warmth, comforting her instead of filling her with terror.

She wandered from the room, following her senses to the elevator.  She had an ever-pressing urge and – despite her own warnings – she stepped into the elevator and rode it down onto the jungle floor.  Stepping off the lift, she circled the giant tree once before stopping in front of the electric fence.  "What the hell is going on," she mumbled, dropping to her knees.  Sighing heavily, she lowered herself forward and rested her forehead on the dirt.  _Am I just plain crazy_?

"No."

Marguerite popped up.  "Then what the hell is going on!"

"Johnny boy sure picked a spitfire.  No wonder it's been so hard for me to get you to listen."

Marguerite tumbled backward, but quickly regained her balance and jumped hastily to her feet.  "Fine.  I'm willing to listen now.  Who the devil are you and what the hell do you want?"

"I want to help you."

Marguerite turned in a circle, searching the voice out.  "And why the hell should I trust you?"

"We're family."

Marguerite snorted.  _That's it.  I really have lost it.  I'm probably locked away in some London Insane Asylum, strapped to a bed and being fed through tubes.  The plateau doesn't exist.  Dinosaurs don't exist.  Apemen don't exist._  Marguerite frowned and thought brokenheartedly: _My children don't exist_.

"The only family I have," she said aloud.  "Are the people sleeping in there," she pointed up at the tree house.

"Well, that would make me family by blood."

"What the hell are you talking about?  Who are you?"

"Lord William Roxton at your service."

_Oh, brother_, Marguerite thought before rolling her eyes and marching back to the elevator.  _This has got to be a bizarre dream_.

End Chapter Fourteen

As you can see, I am rather quickly losing it with this story.  Any suggestions?


	15. Mystery

**Keys**: Thanks. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but I just don't have the drive anymore.

**Courtney**: Thanks for the suggestions! Roxton can't see William, though, because he doesn't have any power. Yet, some bizarre accident with the children…that is quite interesting. Maybe I can work that in somehow without making the story much longer.

**Panda**: Hey, that's a good idea. Everything does seem to be happening for a reason, so why not William's death? Makes sense to me! Thanks! Also, thanks for the congrats. I'm super excited about AmeriCorp.

**Taya**: That's right, missy. No demanding chapters! You (usually) take longer than I!

**Chosen**: Well, my darling clone, I'm glad we think alike. At least we know that twisted minds run in our family! Hahaha.

**Svata**: Thanks for the review!

Chapter Fifteen

Mystery

Veronica was just coming out of her bedroom when Marguerite came storming off the elevator, ranting and raving. She smiled and leaned against the doorframe, amused by her "sister's" morning ritual. _I wonder what she's complaining about now_, she thought.

"Will you just go away," Marguerite snapped.

"I haven't been up long enough to piss you off," Veronica defended.

"I wasn't talking to you," Marguerite said, waving her off with a frustrated swipe of her hand. She marched over to the fire pit and began boiling water for the morning coffee.

Veronica slowly approached her, concerned. "Then who _were_ you talking to, Marguerite?"

She opened her mouth, but then quickly shut it. _How do you tell someone that you're arguing with your husband's dead brother_?

"That is a tough one, isn't it? Mmm…"

"Be quiet or be helpful."

"I am here to help. I just can't help you with this."

"Oh, that's just great. Some helpful spirit you turned out to be." She grabbed a towel and used it to grip the handle of the pot.

Veronica eyed her peculiarly. "Marguerite, what spirit?"

The heiress paused from pouring the water into the mugs and looked up at her innocently. "Uh? I don't know what you mean."

"What spirit isn't being helpful?"

Marguerite growled and slammed the pot onto the table. "I…ahrg! Can't you just drop it!"

"Marguerite, you're going to have to watch that temper."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

Veronica, worried, gingerly placed her hand over her shoulder. "Marguerite, who are you talking to? Is it Klor?"

Marguerite rolled her eyes. "No. A much more maddening spirit."

"Who?"

Marguerite sighed, annoyed. "William."

"William," Veronica asked, stunned and confused. "But William is asleep in the nursery. I just…"

"No. Not that William. John's brother. Lord William Roxton."

"What," the witch gasped. "How…Marguerite, when did you tap into this power?"

The sorceress leaned back in her chair, forgetting about the coffee. "I don't know. Awhile, I guess. I've seen Klor's spirit already. But William has just decided to drop in."

"Not true! I've been trying to get a hold of you for days!"

Marguerite gritted her teeth. "And this one is nonstop."

"Does Roxton know?"

Sighing, Marguerite slouched. "No. I just found out while outside."

"Well, what does William want?"

Marguerite shrugged. "Too make my life a living Hell?"

"Marguerite, I need to be here."

"Why?"

She was met by silence.

"William? William! Where the hell are you? Damn it! William!"

"Marguerite, keep it down," Roxton scolded, approaching the two women with a baby in each arm. "William is right here." He handed their baby boy over to his wife. "See? All safe and sound."

Marguerite held her son, admiring his adorable dimples while wondering: where her children safe?

End Chapter Fifteen

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Considering that I only have 3 months to finish the remaining 6 stories, I have to cut things shorter than I originally planned. Unfortunately, this means that I will have to get everything wrapped up rather quickly in just a few more chapters. So things may get a little choppy and corny. Sorry. Thanks for all your support!


	16. Confession

**Tracey**:  Well, Roxton doesn't have any supernatural powers, so I don't know about them communicating directly.  Thanks for the review!

**Keys**:  Thanks for the vote in confidence, but I don't think it's going to be all that great.

**JG**:  You love how my brain works?  That's scary, sis.  Honest.

**Taya**:  I like William, too.  And I like all the angst that he causes Roxton.

**Svata**:  Thank you for the boost.

**Zeusfluff**:  Summer vacation, uh?  That's cool.  You mind if I ask what grade you just finished?

**Panda**:  They do kind of act like sibs, don't they?  _laughs_ This is a good thing, right?  I mean, they are in-laws.

Chapter Sixteen

Confession

"You know, Johnny was quite the lady's man up until he came to the plateau.  I, on the other hand, was really quite too busy to be bothered with…"

"I don't care," Marguerite lightly stressed, tossing up her hands to fend him off as she sped walked through the trees.  "I don't want to hear another story about your so-called unfair life.  You have no idea how lucky you had it.  At least you had a family and a home and a name."

"Right.  Quite so."

Marguerite came to the clearing where Veronica and Roxton were slaving away in the garden, sweat glistening off their tan skin as they yanked out stubborn weeds.  She was dismayed to see her husband working alongside Veronica.  She had hoped to talk to the jungle witch privately.  "I thought you'd be thirsty," she announced gaily, holding up the canteen of water.  "I figured you may have drunk all of yours by now."

Roxton smiled up from his crouched position by a tomato plant.  "Well, that was very thoughtful, my love."  He reached up, taking the offered drink and took a long swing before handing it over to Veronica.  "Who's with the twins?"

"Malone.  Challenger is stashed away in his lab as usual."

She felt something brush her side and she jerked, yelping.  The two farmers peered at her oddly, questioningly.  Marguerite laughed nervously and waved them off.  "Sorry.  Thought there was a bug," she lied.  She could sense that it had been the spirit, obviously trying to make a more direct connection with her.

"I can't believe it," William's voice was laced with ancient pain.  "Look at my dear baby brother.  He's older than I remember.  Then again, it has been years since…Marguerite, you must do me a favor."

Marguerite clenched her teeth, smiling tightly.  "What," she whispered.

"You say something, Marguerite," Roxton asked, digging his hands into the dirt for the roots of a particularly obstinate weed.

Veronica laid down her shovel, wiping the perspiration off her brow.  "I'm better get on with the hunting," she said after noticing Marguerite's odd behavior.  Roxton usually did most of the hunting, but Veronica took her occasional turn.  "I'll see you back at the tree house."  She glanced at Marguerite, asking with her eyes if the heiress was all right.  When Marguerite nodded, Veronica vanished into the surrounding jungle.

A faint haze appeared just to the right of Roxton, hovering over her husband.  Marguerite could nearly make out William's features, but the sun shined through him and cast a glare.  She watched as the older brother tentatively reached out to John, but never touched him.  "Tell him it's ok."

"He'd think I'm crazy," she hissed.

"Too late for that, Marguerite," Roxton bantered.  "I already do.  Now what's going on?  You're starting to sound like Challenger, always muttering to himself."

"Please, Marguerite, tell him it's ok.  I was meant to die."

"What do you mean," she probed gently.

Roxton, thinking she was talking to him, laughed.  "You know how George is.  He's always talking science mumbo-jumbo to himself."

"If he hadn't killed me, he never would've come to the plateau."

"So?  Isn't that a good thing?"

"Well," Roxton considered.  "I guess it is."

"No.  If he hadn't come, he wouldn't have met you.  You would've been dead by now; and never would've given birth to William and Lillian."

"What aren't you telling me?"

Roxton looked perplexed.  Rising to his feet, to stared at her strangely.  "I don't know what you mean, Marguerite."

"Don't you get it?  You never would've found your powers.  Lillian wouldn't be around to have hers."

"Just tell me, damn it," Marguerite snapped.

Roxton slowly, cautiously approached her.  "Marguerite, I don't know what you want me to say."

"Lillian must be protected."

"Damn it, William, enough of this," she shrieked, staring off past Roxton's shoulder.  "Just tell me what the hell you're talking about!"

Roxton now looked extremely concerned as he gingerly grasped her shoulder.  "Marguerite, my love, who are you talking, too?"

Marguerite's eyes finally landed on him and she exclaimed: "Your brother!"

End Chapter Sixteen

I've only got two more months.  Whoo-hoo!


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